


Breath of a Life

by Stelmarya



Series: The Spider Club [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Natasha Romanov Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Mess, Pregnancy, Protective Natasha Romanov, Slice of Life, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, actual cinnamon rolls not just peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stelmarya/pseuds/Stelmarya
Summary: These days Peter and Natasha's relationship seems to only include dubiously planned decisions, not very conventional relationships and cinnamon rolls. IronWidow.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The Spider Club [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684681
Comments: 18
Kudos: 159





	Breath of a Life

**Author's Note:**

> There's not really a plot here, just Peter and Nat being amazing together. Also, pretend that it's possible that an operation from Helen Cho allows Natasha to have children <3  
> The title and lyrics come from Florence and the Machine's 'Breath of a Life".

**Breath of a life**

_and my heart is a hollow plain_

_for the devil to dance again_

_and the room is too quiet, oh oh oh oh_

_I was looking for the breath of a life_

_A little touch of a heavenly light_

_But all the choirs in my head sang, no oh oh oh_

The thing isn’t that he doesn’t trust May; the opposite, he has always been really close to her, and those days when they had learned how to tie a bow and dance were the best ever. The problem is that May loves him too much. If he asks her, she will tell him useless stuff like ‘be yourself’ or ‘everything will be alright’. Every teenager knows that ain’t true. And if he asks Tony he probably won’t get the best answers. God knows the man doesn’t have the best history when romantic relationships are involved.

By process of elimination, only one trustful, mature and honest person remains.

“Natasha?”

The woman stops doing squats and watches him with that softened face she has only for him. And Tony, if he behaves decently.

“What is it, Petrusha?”

“Right, look, I’m sorry to bother you with this, but it’s a very personal business and I don’t want to bother Ned right now because he’s really happy with Claudia and I feel neither May nor Tony will give me the right advice, but I might be wrong and it’s a bit hard to talk about and that’s—”

“Peter,” Natasha cuts in. He’s relieved to see she’s not angry at his stupid, uncontrollable talking reflex. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Words pour out of his mouth like vomit, without his approval.

“I think MJ is cheating on me.”

**xxx**

Peter sees the blow before he feels it, but given that he’s a good superhero that would never harm innocent civilians, he let’s Malcolm fist smash against his temple. His eyesight is filled with lights and stars, but he doesn’t flinch. He has received worse hits than a teenager’s.

The next one breaks his nose, and he tastes blood. He’s still immobile, in the middle of the hall.

“You’re such a freak, Parker,” Malcolm spats. Flash and his gang laugh loudly, pointing at his nose. Peter cleans his upper lip and glances to his right.

MJ doesn’t meet his eyes.

Peter grab his stuff and turns around, ignoring the insults and provocations at his back. That gesture from his girlfriend hurts more than any hit he could’ve received. Several classmates look at him with alarm as he bleeds heavily from his nose, but he doesn’t pay them any attention.

 _It’s nothing_ , he thinks, leaving the school and facing New York’s chilly wind. _Captain America threw a container on my back. This is nothing._

His trip allows him to rest and sort his ideas. He’s sure, but he doesn’t want to be, but the evidences all point to the same direction, but—

“Nice face,” Natasha tells him when he arrives to the Avengers compound's common room. Peter looks at the distance as he gives her a bag full of cinnamon rolls.

“Thank you, I wear it every day,” he answers, distracted. He leaves his shabby backpack on the floor and massages his temples. A terrible, sharp pain is starting to appear on his right side. “I’m, like, eighty-nine percent sure she’s cheating on me?”

“Did you ask her?” Natasha grabs his arm and pulls him down on the sofa next to her. He feels a bit guilty as he sees her closing her book; he’s bothering her on her scarce free time. “Petrusha.”

“No, but today she was again laughing alone on her phone. I mean, with the person she was talking to, and it was one of those sharp giggles girls make when they’re flirting and I was too embarrassed to ask her while she was doing that.”

“Enough speculations, Petrusha. The only way to solve this is talking.”

“I could put my Spiderman suit and follow her to see what she's up to.”

“ _Peter_.”

“Just kidding.”

They remain in silence for a few moments. He turns to watch her, her exceptionally beautiful face and her eyes, cold and warm at the same time. She’s nothing like May, or Tony. Her silences are always comfortable, as if he doesn’t have to talk a hundred miles per hour to fill them. He breathes in.

“I’m scared,” he’s mortified to feel a blush rising on his neck; that always came before tears. He’s not going to cry about a girl. “I don’t want it to be real. I want it to stay like Schrödinger’s cat. If I don’t open the box…”

“That’s the worst thing you could do. That, and cheat on her.”

“I would _never_ do that to anyone,” he says, fiercer than he originally intended to. He glances down at his hands. “Never.”

Silence again. Natasha gives him time to collect himself, and Peter thanks her from the bottom of his heart.

“You will do it tomorrow,” she orders him. He doesn’t have enough strength left to protest. “And, Peter.”

“What?”

“Stop letting everyone in your school bully you. The fact that you have superpowers doesn’t mean you should let everyone turn your face purple.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not that bad…”

“Good Lord,” Tony cries when he arrives while munching a donut. “Who left your face blue and black? Are your trying to be raccoon now or something?”

**xxx**

He focuses on saving people, on helping, on being of value to the city with small actions that may not seem like much, but they matter. They always matter.

Natasha appears in his apartment one afternoon in March with a pack of cinnamon rolls under one arm and vodka under the other. It scares the shit out of him.

“How did you get in?” he asks, voice shriller than usual. Natasha looks at him from the top of her sunglasses. “Master spy. Right.”

May is in a date (and God he doesn’t want to think about that), so that night was going to be just for him. And with ‘for him’ he means helping half of Queens and half of Bronx.

“Come ‘ere. Sit down.”

“I have a shift,” he protests, even though he knows it will be useless.

“No, you don’t. Sit down.”

He obeys grudgingly. To be Spiderman is his redemption, his salvation. It’s unhealthy to dedicate so much of his time to something, but no one will ever say Peter is an average boy. He would rather stop burglars and save kitties from trees than eat, than talk to his friends, than _sleep_.

 _I’m nothing without the suit,_ he remembers. Natasha wasn’t there at that point, but she looks at him as if she knows. She always knows.

“I’m a minor.”

“That doesn’t stop you from risking your life every day, does it?”

He shrugs and takes a sip. He doesn’t know about alcohol, everything tastes the same, but vodka burns his throat in a very particular way. He eats a cinnamon roll to pretend he’s not whimpering.

“What did you come here for, Nat?”

“Nothing in particular,” she replies, watching him with eyes too clear. “To keep you company.”

She doesn’t fill his glass again until he eats two more rolls. Peter knows it’s because the more you eat, the less easily you get drunk. Tony taught him that.

“Nat.”

“What?”

“You’re not afraid Tony might cheat on you?” He realizes how stupid is his question the moment it leaves his lips. Tony and Natasha are no ordinary couple, and Tony Stark is one of the best man he has ever met in his life. “Forget it, it’s a stupid question…”

“No,” she cuts in. “What I’m afraid of is him leaving me.”

Alcohol makes him tear up a bit, but he doesn’t feel lightheaded. He keeps eating and keeps filling his inner void with sugar and liquor.

_We’re on a good track, boys._

“Don’t let this bad experience ruin your life. Not everyone is an asshole, and bear in mind that for me to say this…”

“Well, I dunno. MJ never gave me the impression of being someone who cheated. And she didn’t cheat anyways, she was just thinking about doing it, and breaking up with me, which is good because that meant she wasn’t cheating on me, but bad because I really loved her.”

More silence. An ambulance rings in the distance.

“You have the right to feel angry, you know? You don’t have to go and save people and ignore that it fucking _hurts_. You have the right to cry. That doesn’t make you weaker.”

“It’s just a teenage romance, it ain’t worth it.”

“I guess you’re right,” Natasha says, more thoughtful than ever. He thinks he's on his seventh shot of vodka. “I wish I knew how to give romantic advice; I suck. What would Tony say?”

“ _There are more fish in the sea, underoos. Stop thinking about her and come ‘ere, I’ve a new upgrade of your suit that’ll blow your pants off.”_

“God, identical,” Natasha pretends to shiver. The liquid and sweets are already gone. “Stop canalizing your inner Tony. It’s bad for your health.”

For the first time in weeks, Peter burst out in laughter.

**xxx**

They had their first date at the beginning of June, and Peter tries to be as kind as possible, but it has always been May and him and this whole business feels so awkward.

Mark is a good man, really, and it’s clear he’s working hard to impress him. The relationship is quite new, but that doesn’t explain why he is so intent on getting close to him. He’s just May’s nephew, after all.

“Just her nephew? Are you serious?”

He has never seen Natasha so surprised, and Peter doesn’t know why.

“Yeah, that’s why I call her _aunt_ May.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Teenagers,” she grumbles, shaking her head. They’re both doing sit ups in the compound’s gym, and given that they're at the top of human’s endurance, neither of them is tired. It’s the perfect moment to tell her about his situation.

“Besides, imagine they have children or adopt or something like that. I’ll just be the useless nephew. I’d be taking away space from the child.”

A shiver goes up his spine and he feels something cold shifting in his stomach. He refuses to feel jealous.

“The relationship is four months-old and you’re already thinking about the children,” Natasha changes to sit ups, so he can’t decipher her expression anymore. “Don’t think about it so much, just enjoy.”

“What, Mark’s company?”

“Obviously. What if he has something interesting to share?”

“Like what?”

“What if has seen the northern lights, for example?”

“He’s an accountant!”

“With a lot of money.”

Peter smiles despite himself. Conversations with Nat always end up that way. She and Ned always make him laugh, without fail.

“No one is going to replace you, Peter,” she tells him. Her voice sounds a bit more forceful. “And Mark doesn’t sound so bad. His record is spotless.”

“ _You investigated him!?_ ”

“Obviously. You think Tony and I would’ve let a stranger sweep into your lives just like that?”

“And you still think he has seen the northern lights.”

“It was an _example_. Jesus, you’re denser than Tony.”

Peter stops.

“Natasha.”

“Hm.”

“Are you ever going to marry him?”

She halts her movements too, and stares at him under heavy lashes. Sweat is pouring down her chin and temples. She doesn’t seem tired, or surprised by the question.

“I don’t know; it’s up to him.”

“If he proposes, would you say yes?”

Natasha glances up at the roof, lost in thought.

“I guess so.”

And that makes him really happy, because they make each other happy; the only thing left was to encourage Tony. But Mark and May? No, not even their names fit.

“Peter.”

“What?”

“Don’t even _dare_ to come between May and Mark like a spoiled brat, or I swear I’ll show May your pornography folder.”

He gasps.

“You evil woman, that’s mean and cruel. Y’have to respect a man’s pornography folder.”

“Whatever, you go and tell May that. In the meantime, leave them alone. You’re seventeen, not seven.”

For some reason, the scolding doesn’t feel so bad coming from her.

**xxx**

“Lord help me, have mercy.”

The first thing that appears in his sight is Natasha, which is wrong because she should be resting after her operation.

“Am I in heaven?” he says just to make her laugh. His plan works perfectly.

“No, not even close. Welcome to the hangover and bad decisions’ realm. On your right, a bathroom for the vomit. Left, water with a pill for your headache. In front of you, your loved Natasha who convinced May that it wasn’t a good idea to skin you alive for coming home absolutely wasted. Any questions?”

“Can I go to heaven?”

“No.”

“And hell?”

“Even less.”

At that point his sight is clear, and the bitter taste in his mouth is almost unbearable. Everything seems so bright, especially Natasha’s crimson hair. Although, watching it closely, he notices she isn’t in her best moments either. Her skin is sallow, eyes sunken and glassy, and she’s not in her usual tight clothes.

“You should be resting.”

“I am resting,” she says, leaning on her chair. “And I’m also acquiring information. If I’m going to have a child, then I have to see how they’re going to end when they’re seventeen, irresponsible and drinking like a drunkard.”

Peter growls.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me where did this… decision of behaving like a typical teenager come from?”

Peter watches the wooden planks of his bunk bead and tries to remember how his life was before having that damn hangover.

“Peter.”

“For a girl,” he says, turning to his left and facing away from Natasha. “There was a girl in the party, she’s called Charlotte, I think… or Caroline. No, definitely Charlotte.”

“ _Bozhe moi_.”

“The point is that I had seen her before and she’s a really good person and she’s kind to me even when no one else is, and in the party she was always with me and we talked a lot, it was great, but she was drinking a lot and she convinced me too because she wanted me to have a good time, and one thing led to the other…”

“Please tell me you used a condom.”

“ _Natasha!_ ”

He thanks every god out there that he isn’t facing her, because he feels his face burning, and he definitely can’t meet the woman’s eyes. He curls up on his sheets, even though he’s already starting to feel better.

“Don’t be so ashamed, it’s something normal. Ask Tony.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

No one says anything for a while. Peter hears the exact moment when she stands up and he relaxes a bit, waiting to hear his door opening and closing, but that never happens. For some reason she stays in his room, on her feet, and then walking around a bit. When he understands Natasha is not leaving, he turns to watch her. She’s in front of one of his Star Wars’ LEGOS, now facing away from him. He feels ashamed and sorry at the same time.

He knows why the infamous Black Widow is watching his childish stuff.

“When will you be able to… begin to… um…?”

“In two months, my body should be completely healed then,” she stays without turning to see him. She moves a bit to her right and touches one of his LEGO figures. “But Pepper told Tony that being pregnant in summer is awful, so we may wait a bit, maybe not.”

Peter hums, sitting up on his bed. Nothing has changed in her (except for her ability to have children, obviously), but she’s more fragile, more… accessible. He feels so many emotions overwhelming him, imagining a tiny Tony, or a tiny Natasha, or a perfect mix between both.

_The world doesn’t know what’s coming._

“And are you gonna call her back? This Charlotte.”

“Obviously. I really like her, and she likes Star Wars too. Not like me, of course…”

“ _No one_ like you.”

Natasha turns and they both share an ethereal moment of understanding. He looks at her in the eye and smiles for real, with his cheeks glowing. Her smile falters a bit when she sees his expression, but she doesn’t say anything.

There isn’t any adult in the world with whom he shares that kind of bond. She lets him drink alcohol, lets him make mistakes, teaches him all kinds of dangerous martial moves, all because she trusts him, because she considers him more of a grown up than anyone else in his life. Tony and May want to protect him from everything, want to put him in wrapping paper and hide him, without letting him make any decisions. Natasha wants him to be as prepared for the world he’s getting into as possible, because she knows from the bottom of her heart he’s not really okay and that one cannot always choose what one does to put up with life.

He rubs his watery eyes with the back of his hands and sniffs.

“Natasha.”

“Hm?”

“You’re gonna be a great mom, I promise.”

She blinks, looks up at the roof and tries to pretend she’s not getting teary too.

“If I were you, I’d save the big, emotional speeches for May. She almost passed out. And Mark too.”

“If I buy you cinnamon rolls every week while you’re pregnant, will you stop them from murdering me and hiding my body?”

“Every day.”

“Done.”

**xxx**

_bonus;_

“Aleksander.”

“Eh… maybe? Write it, just in case.”

“Alexei… no. Too many bad memories.

“Isn’t it the same as Aleksander? Alexander, Alexis…”

“Focus, Tony. Yaroslav?”

“Nah. I’m not sure about those names with ‘slav’”

“Alright… I have to pee, go and look for more.”

When she comes back, she finds him hunched, with several tablets on the table lighting up his face. She never thought she would find someone as good in multitasking as her. She sits with a growl; because moving with that beach ball between her legs is turning to be harder and harder each day that passes.

“Pyotr.”

“What?”

“ _Pyotr_. Am I saying it right? Maybe something more Christian, like Petro, but that’s Ukrainian…”

She thinks about it for a few seconds.

“Nah,” she answers, leaning her whole weight on Tony. He holds her and steadies her like he always does. _Always_. “We already have a child named Peter.”


End file.
